


Traitors to Humanity

by Gabethebabe



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Dog adoption, Homophobic Language, I say fuck so many fucking times y'all, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexist Language, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabethebabe/pseuds/Gabethebabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1965. Achilles and Patroclus are two kids only worried about one thing: keeping their relationship under wraps, but it all goes to hell when Agamemnon finds out the truth. That, combined with Patroclus' decision to take a gap year cause the confines of their small hometown to come crashing down on them.<br/>And what are two boys in love meant to do? Meet a girl, get a dog, steal a truck, and head out west, of course.<br/>Title is a line from the song "Draft Resister" by Steppenwolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maya_Koppori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya_Koppori/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there anybody going to listen to my story?  
> All about the boy who came to stay.   
> He's the kind of boy you want so much it makes you sorry,  
> still you don't regret a single day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no promises of updating this, and really don't have an excuse to why I'm such a literal pile of garbage. Sorry about it???

No one questioned anything. Ever.

It was one of the unspoken rules of their small town. A few other examples of these unspoken rules would be the way Patroclus and Achilles were always at each other’s sides, that Menelaus would always forgive Helen for her many affairs, and that no one word red socks on the third Thursday of every month. Sure, there were other oddities- like the fact that it seemed to be the only small town in America that didn’t have any type of church, or the fact that every single citizen’ s family came from Greece-  but the first three really gave one a feel for the town and its people.

There was only so much one could learn from outside- cobblestone roads, an old fashioned ice cream parlor, and a main street riddled with mom-and-pop businesses gave off the vibe of a classic small town. And sure, everyone knew everyone, and everyone was somehow distantly related to someone else on their mother’s side twice removed, _yes, yes, see you at Christmas Ace and tell your father and Pat that I said hi-_ but it was as far as could be from your average small town.

This was because there wasn’t another small town in the whole country that had Achilles as their star quarterback.

“I hate it here.”  Achilles said one Friday night after another victorious homecoming game. It was a cool autumn night, and Patroclus had been busy taking mental snapshots of all the different colors the leaves had turned before he spoke.

“We can go somewhere else, then.” Patroclus suggested. The two had taken refuge in their elementary school’s old park after rumors of a post-dance bonfire drove them away from their normal beachside hangout.  

“That’s not what I meant- this town. This place.” Achilles gestured at everything around them. “Everyone knows everyone and knows everything-“

“-And you know they’ll be talking nonstop about why their golden boy ditched homecoming prom, despite being elected homecoming king.” Patroclus reached for the inside pocket of his- well, Achilles’- letterman jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“Yeah, well, they can all gent bent.” He declared, watching his boyfriend hit the pack on the back of his hand- _three times to settle it and twice for good measure_.

“Why didn’t you want to go, again?” Patroclus slowly unwrapped the plastic. He knew the reason, but wanted Achilles to tell him again. He wanted to hear exactly how much their relationship meant to the other boy.

“I couldn’t dance with you- I couldn’t kiss you, couldn’t touch you, couldn’t even talk to you too much without others getting suspicious- and I’d have to dance with Helen when she won prom queen.”

“Having to keep our relationship a secret is burdensome,” Patroclus sighed, then with a sly smile “especially when you say something particularly charming at lunch. It takes every fiber in my being not to cover your face in kisses then and there.”

Achilles watched as Patroclus slowly opened the box and took out two cigarettes, one for himself and one for Achilles.

“All the medical experts are saying that smoking kills you now.” He mentioned, taking out his lighter anyway. His dad gave it to him last year, a golden zippo with the words _artistos achaion_ engraved on the side.  

“Yeah, well, it can’t be any worse than LBJ forcibly marching our friends and classmates off to fight commies in a fucking rain forest.” Patroclus spat with a personal edge of hatred, then instantly softened. He and his boyfriend shared very different views of war, and he knew that Achilles planned on enlisting. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I understand.” And he did. Achilles’ friend, and Patroclus’ best friend, Hector, had been drafted and sent to Vietnam. He died after only a month in active duty. Sitting here now with Patroclus on the hood of his dad’s truck, he could see the man’s face. It was unrecognizable- ruined completely by a mixture of bullets and napalm. “There will be other wars for me to fight in.”

“Hopefully these other wars will not be like this.” Pat reached for his hand and squeezed, deeply inhaling smoke. He breathed it his final thought of _\- Or that we will have evolved not to fight any more wars at all-_ out in smoke and watched them mix and dissipate into the night air. “You’ll come back safe to me if- when- you go, and you’ll be a decorated war vet just like your dad.”

Achilles raised their interlocked hands and kissed the back of Pat’s. “And maybe I’ll do so great at stopping all those commies, they’ll lift all their anti-queer laws for me.”

Pat chuckled darkly, smoking escaping his lungs in short bursts as he did. “Well, I have always wanted you to make an honest man out of me.”

He turned to look at his boyfriend, whose expression had changed from jovial to completely series. “I will one day, I swear it.”

“Ace, that’s never gonna-“

“Patroclus listen to me. I don’t care what I have to do, but I will marry you one day. Even if I have to overthrow the government myself.”

Patroclus smiled and it was the saddest smile Achilles had ever seen. He hated it. He hated society. He hated every homophobic and awful thing that Patroclus’ father had ever said to him.

“You’re the man I love, the most beloved by the best football player in our entire football conference. You’ll inspire me to change the world.” Achilles leaned forward and pressed his lips to Patroclus’. He tasted like black coffee and cigarettes, but he also tasted like home too. It was a sensation Achilles couldn’t explain and didn’t bother to.

“If I don’t change it myself.” Patroclus pulled back and flicked his cigarette away.

“Come on.” Achilles stood quickly and without warning.

“Where are we going?”  

“We’ve got a bonfire to attend.” Achilles flashed him one of his mischievous grins. 


	2. Hold Me Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold me tight,  
> let me go on loving you  
> tonight, tonight.  
> Making love to only you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I almost forgot I started this idea! Sorry for abandoning it for so long. Tbh I’m not going to promise regular updates anymore (bc my life is kind of a mess), but I do promise I’ll at least try to finish it! Especially with Hot To the Touch Cold On the Inside ending, I should have more free creative space in my brain! Maybe. Actually I've already got another multi-chapter fic idea planned out and...I'm a mess someone stop me. 
> 
> Also thing chapter felt a little rushed to me?? But I got the idea for it and actually had some free time this week, so I wrote it as quickly as possible.
> 
> !!!!! Warning bc hella homophobic language in this chapter ok cool thanks

By the time they got to the beach, the annual bonfire was in full swing. Various empty cups, beer bottles, and clothing layers were strewn out across the beach. Further down the bonfire burned bright and powerful as students danced around it in a tribe-like trance. Spirits were high, people were happy to see the two of them, and the music was good. For a moment Patroclus almost didn’t regret letting Achilles talk him into this…then he saw Agamemnon.

“Well, if it isn’t the golden boy and his lapdog!” The 20-something year old bellowed. He was wearing his college’s t-shirt and carrying a beer bottle that was probably more for show than anything else.

Achilles moved forward to confront him, but Patroclus stepped in before he could. “And if it isn’t the pathetic marine washout! How long did you last, a day?” He gave a fake laugh before turning to his companion. “Hey, Ace, how much longer until he gets kicked out of Gerogetown?”

Achilles laughed a new light in his eyes. He would never cease to be amused by how cleaver his love could be. “I’d say about a week, maybe even faster if he keeps showing up at high school parties. I can’t believe our former quarterback is reduced to picking on minors.”

“Oh how the mighty fall.” Patroclus shared a smug smile with Achilles. He would have liked nothing more than to either punch Agamemnon or kiss Achilles, but since he could do neither he settled for jeering. The altercation had caused them to engross a small crowd of their friends. Mainly Menelaus, Helen, and a few of Hector’s little brothers stood around them.

Last year Agamemnon had been quarterback and thought that it made him superior to everyone, mainly Achilles. Achilles, never one to listen to anyone, constantly fought against everything he said. It resulted in almost daily fights and Achilles sitting out the last part of his junior year. _Not that Patroclus minded his boyfriend being out of harm’s way,_ but everyone else at their school had grown tired of the two boy’s constant fighting. So much so that they all breathed a collective sigh of relief when Agamemnon graduated and peace fell over the school.

Agamemnon didn’t respond to their jests, and for a moment it looked like he might simply walk away. It was then that Patroclus noticed a familiar glint of mischief in his eye. “Whatever, faggots.”

Patroclus turned in horror to see Achilles’ face completely red with anger. With clinched fists and through even more tightly clinched teeth he growled. “What the _fuck_ did you just call us?”

“Achilles-“ Patroclus whispered as he wrapped his hands around Achilles’ shoulders to stop him if he tried to move forward. He nodded his head to signal Ajax to come over and help hold him.

“You heard me, Achilles. You and you’re little boyfriend.” Agamemnon spat. Achilles growled again, an inhuman noise that sent chills down everyone’s spins. Patroclus feared the worst. Agamemnon was unknowingly pushing all of Achilles’ buttons, which could prove to be a very dangerous thing.

Patroclus prayed to whatever god, Buddha, Allah, spirit in the universe to _just let Achilles drop this_. When neither of them made a move towards each other he thought his prayers were answered…then Menelaus stepped up. Patroclus really needed to stop getting his hopes up.

“He’s right. I think it’s sick all of us are expected to be fine with these queers with us in the locker rooms. They could be watching us change, it’s disgusting.” He stood next to his brother with an equally holier-than-thou attitude.

“Why don’t you two just-“ Achilles started to threaten before being interrupted by Agamemnon.

“Shouldn’t you be asking _how_ rather than _why?_ As in how did my brother and I find out the truth about you two?” the crowd that had gathered around them whispered and looked to Patroclus and Achilles in shock. Before that they had assumed that the slurs the brothers were throwing were just a part of the stock standard list of awful thing said in spite.

“Yeah, You heard us! Achilles and Patroclus aren’t just the _best friends_ everyone loves to think they are, they’re lovers. Certified pillow biters.”

Patroclus was shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane. Achilles shifted so that Patroclus was no longer holding him back from fighting, but rather he was holding Patroclus to keep him from collapsing.

Agamemnon laughed. “And you know-“

“That’s ENOUGH.” Helen had stepped forward from the crowd with a disgusted look on her face. Paris blindly tumbled out after her. Patroclus almost felt touched by act, but then he remembered that Paris was probably just helping out to get back at Menelaus.

“Helen. Stand back and shut up.” Menelaus ordered, turning from Patroclus and Achilles to face her.

Helen crossed her arms defiantly and stood taller before him. “No. I won’t let you order me around anymore, and I won’t let you bully Patroclus and Achilles. So what if they’re a couple, I’m happy for them. And for Achilles’ sake, I hope Patroclus is better in bed than you are.”

“Listen here you little whore, you better shut your mouth before I break that pretty little nose of yours.” Agamemnon shoved his brother out of the way to glare down at the prom queen.

“Oh,” Helen touched her heart and acted in mock sincerity. “Oh, Agamemnon I’m so sorry. Clearly I’ve hit a nerve…3 inches must run in the family.”

A chorus of “oohs” swept through the Trojan family. Without a second’s though Agamemnon slapped Helen across the face, sending her falling to the sand. Both Paris and Menelaus ran to her side, but were too busy arguing over who should help her up to actually help her. Patroclus, still shaking, felt himself being pulled away from the beach by Achilles.

“This isn’t our fight. I’m not standing up for any of these assholes if they won’t stand up for us.” Achilles growled, stopping momentarily to pick Patroclus up bridal style and carry him back to the truck.

Right as they rounded the corner to the boardwalk back, Patroclus saw Menelaus punch Paris and all hell break lose.

*

When they got back to Peleus’ home that night, the two boys ran as fast as they could to Achilles’ room.

“That was crazy.” Achilles said as he slammed the door behind him.

“Fuckin’ A.” Patroclus grunted as he plopped down on the bed. Achilles’ smell was all around him and, despite the events from earlier, he felt calm and safe. He would always feel calm and safe with Achilles around.

The blonde in question crawled into the bed next to him, resting his head on Patroclus’ chest. “Monday’s going to be interesting.”

“That’s an understatement.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but anxiety seized Patroclus. Now that everyone at school knew, it was only a matter of time before his father found out and kicked him to the curb. _Oh god this was bad. Oh god oh god oh god-_

Achilles’ hand brushed against Patrolus’ stomach. “Whatever you’re thinking about, you need to stop.”

“Why?” Patroclus looked down at his boyfriend.

“Because your heart rate just doubled. So, either it’s giving you incredible anxiety…or you’re thinking about me in my football pants again.”

Patroclus faux-scoffed. “Conceded.”

“That’s why you love me.” Achilles raised himself up to kiss him. When they broke apart Achilles quirked up an eyebrow. “Seriously, what were you thinking about?”

Patroclus looked away. He was ashamed of how scared he was of his father. He was 18, a man; he shouldn’t still worry about his approval like some 5 year old. He thought about making something up, but he knew if he did that Achilles would see right through him. So it was with a sigh that he finally admitted “My dad.”

“Sucks to your dad, Patroclus. He’s an ass.”

“An ass that will kick me out the second he finds out about us! Achilles, baby, I’m really worried.”

Achilles leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. “Don’t be. I’ll protect you no matter what. I love you, Patroclus.”

“I love you too.” Patroclus leaned forward and kissed him again. And again. And again. And again. Patroclus got so lost in the feeling of Achilles’ lips on his that he hardly noticed when Achilles started to take his shirt off.

“Mmmm- babe, seriously? We started a fight at the beach earlier and you’re already in the mood?” Patroclus smiled up at his boyfriend. The boyfriend in question was blown away with how breath taking Patroclus was, especially when pinned down under him.

“Yeah,” Achilles bent down and planted kissed all along Patroclus’ freckled jaw and neck. When he pulled back to look down at Patroclus both were completely flustered.

Patroclus opened his eyes and in half-lidded bliss gave a breathy. “Good.”

That was all Achilles needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about Helen, she'll get her happy ending.


	3. Blackbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackbird singing in the dead of night,  
> take these broken wings and learn to fly. 
> 
> Or; In which I'm sick of editing and the abusive parent trope. My opinions on this chapter??? Yikes.  
> My need to publish it bc if I don't make myself do something I'll never move forward in any of my writing??? Double Yikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (internally screaming)

The boys had been right about Monday being interesting for them, but what they didn’t know was that their lives would be changed forever by the time Monday arrived.

Patroclus was a year older than Achilles and after his graduation from high school, at the request of his boyfriend, had announced that he’d be taking a year off. He’d told people that it would be therapeutic for him to learn some skill and distress before going off to college, but in truth he did it so that he and Achilles could start college together. In all honestly, Patroclus hadn’t the slightest clue as to what he wanted to major in, so the year off did help him some. Achilles encouraged his boyfriend to practice his guitar, saxophone, violin, painting, writing, or any other artsy talent that he knew his father normally discouraged.  He made sure to gush over any poems Patroclus wrote for him, or show off any art Patroclus had made so they he knew he supported him fully. Thus far the gap year had been going wonderfully for Patroclus, and he just had one semester left until he was free to leave his small hometown with Achilles.

But, in the grand tradition of Patroclus getting his hopes up only to have the universe crush them, all of that came crashing down around him November 6th, 1965.

The two boys woke up in a tangle of limbs and love just after 10a.m. Patroclus had planned to stay in bed until noon at least, but Achilles was less than content to waste their Saturday.  

“There’s nothing wrong with cuddling.” Patroclus groaned, still lying in in bed despite Achilles’ best efforts to make him get up. He cursed his luck that his soul mate should be such a morning person.

Achilles pulled the comforter off of Patroclus, earning an aggravated groan. “I know, but we did plenty of it last night! Patroclus, it’s a new day. The birds are singing and my dad’s out of town. We can do anything we want: throw a party, go on an adventure-“

“Stay in bed.” Patroclus finished for Achilles, throwing a pillow at his over energetic boyfriend.

“Please, baby? For me.” Patroclus cracked an eye open to see his boyfriend pouting and leaning over him.

“C’mon you know that’s not fair, Ace.” All Achilles had to do was pout and Patroclus melted right into his hands. Well, all Achilles had to do was literally _anything_ and Patroclus would melt right into his hands, but Patroclus refused to admit that Achilles had that much power over him.

“I know it; I’m just rotten aren’t I?” Achilles planted a kiss on Patroclus’ forehead. He then moved to plant a trail of kisses down his temple, cheek, jawline, and neck.

Patroclus fought to keep his voice even and with his usual sarcastic tone “The worst! You disgust me and I’ll have you know that I thoroughly hate you.”

“I’ll bet.” Achilles changed from faux-pouting to faux-cooing as he continued to cover his boyfriend’s face in wet sloppy kisses.

“Ugh! You’re just like a dog!” Patroclus tried to sound stern, but found it hard to do anything but laugh and melt into Achilles’ arms. “Down, boy! Bad dog!”

Achilles pulled back from Patroclus with a face-splitting smile on his face. “If I’m the dog does that make you my master?”

Patroclus’ only response was to turn an unhealthy shade of red and push his boyfriend off of him. Achilles hit the ground and erupted into a fit of laughter.

*

Patroclus eventually got out of bed after 15 solid minutes of beating his perverted boyfriend with a pillow.

“If there’s not breakfast ready for me by the time I get down stairs, I’m breaking up with you.” Patroclus threated. Achilles, used to this stock standard harassment and complaining, stuck out his tongue.

“You wish you could, but we both know that you’re helpless in love with me.” He made sure bat his eyes in a cartoonish way as he spoke.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Patroclus slid on last night’s bellbottoms. At that moment there was a knock on Achilles’ bedroom door.

 “Come in.” Achilles said in a joyful, sing-songy tone. Too joyful for the news they were about to received. Too joyful for the world they lived in.

The door opened and one of his family’s servants entered. She was a rather matronly woman with a withered face and sad eyes. “You boys should come down stairs to the living room. Your fathers are waiting.”

 _Your fathers are waiting._ Patroclus’ jaw dropped open in shock. How loud had they been just now? Did they over hear? Did they know?

“Why are they here?” Achilles spoke, voice steady and light. Patroclus would never understand how easy life seemed for him- how easy speaking and lying and living all were.

“I…I think its best that they tell you. You boys better hurry up.” Her reply was delivered with a bowed head and shaking hands, and as soon as she came she left. Once the door clicked closed Achilles turned to Patroclus.

“Do you think…”

“I don’t know.” Patroclus felt himself choke up, but he was determined not to cry. He would not give his bastard of a father the satisfaction of seeing him weak.

“So what if they know. I love you, Patroclus, and I’m sick of hiding it.” Achilles instantly bounced back to his fearless self. Patroclus was thankful that his boyfriend could be strong enough for the both of them in that moment, because he didn’t know how he would react to the disappointed look in his father’s eyes.

“Let’s just go and get this over with.”

Achilles had suggested walking down hand-in-hand, but Patroclus refused. As they made their way down the stairs that over-looked the living room Patroclus saw the sadness on the faces of his father and Peleus.

“Oh god. This is worse than I thought.” He whispered to Achilles.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll protect you. I swear it.” Achilles put his arm around Patroclus’ shoulder.

“You swear it? What are we, in a Shakespearian play?” Patroclus quipped. Achilles only pulled his boyfriend closer. He knew that sarcasm was Patroclus’ instant defense mechanism when he got nervous. He knew everything about him.

Once they reached the landing of the stairs, Peleus saw them and stood. “Boys…Patroclus.”

The two made their way into the living room. For most of his life, Peleus’ house had been like a second home to him. The mustard colored walls and matching orange shag carpet had been what Patroclus pictured when he thought of the word “safe”, but as he made his way into the living room today he would only feel dread.

“Sit down, son.” Menoetius said. His voice didn’t have the harsh authority that it normally did, nor did it have the anger in it that Patroclus expected. In fact, all he heard was fear.

Patroclus and Achilles sat next to one another on a dark green couch, and Menoetius and Peleus sat across from them in two orange chairs.

“I thought you were in New York on business.” Achilles was always the first to speak. His voice held a tone of innocence and genuine curiosity that Patroclus admired. All he could do was look down at his lap in guilt. He hated what he was.

“I was…but I flew back this morning.” He shifted his gaze to Patroclus, who felt his heavy eyes on the top of his head. “As soon as I heard the news.”

“I called him when I saw the letter.” Menoetius reached his hand into the inside pocket of his plaid suit coat. Patroclus, wide eyed and with no idea what to expect, looked up at the man. His heart stopped when he saw the undeniable government sent envelope. “I’m sure you know what it is.”

He nodded numbly. He didn’t know what to feel- didn’t know how to feel. He tried to make his mouth form the words, his death sentence, but he couldn’t. He could only sit there in stunned silence and think it. _Draft._

The world stopped spinning and adrenaline spread through Patroclus’ veins. He prayed that his second would freeze and nothing else would ever happen again. He prayed his anxiety would give him a heart attack. He prayed that god, Allah, Buddha, whatever spirit in the universe that seemed to take such great joy in making him miserable would smite him right then and there. But none of that happened.

The moment went on and the first thing he heard was Achilles crying. “This is my fault.”

Suddenly the blonde was all around him. His too-long hair that Peleus had been begging him to cut was in his face and his eyes. His post-game scent of musk and pheromones and sweat was all Patroclus could smell. His endless choked out apologized filled his ears.

Patroclus couldn’t process anything, didn’t want to. He wanted to stay like this forever, wanted to be held by Achilles forever.

_“I’ll protect you. I swear it.”_

_You can’t protect me from the draft._ He wanted to say, wanted to laugh it off like this was some cruel joke. Because that’s all this was: some cruel joke from some cruel universe.

Achilles was too-good, too-perfect, and Patroclus didn’t deserve him. This had to be the universe’s way of evening the score- sending him to die in a jungle.

“Ace, please calm down.” Peleus voice roused Patroclus from his trance. Achilles didn’t listen to his father. He kept hugging Patroclus and crying into his neck while Patroclus looked off ahead.

“No! Dad, this is my fault! Patroclus- Mr. Menoetius- I’m so sorry.” Patroclus felt himself move his arms to wrap around Achilles and pet his hair, but didn’t feel like he was actively controlling his body. If anything he felt more like he was sitting in the corner of the room and watching this all happen from a distance.

“It’s the government’s fault. It’s not yours, Achilles.” The kindness in Patroclus’ father’s voice surprised him. Then again, he was talking to the golden boy and not his disappointment of a son.

“But I made him take the gap year- I made him!”

“No, no I wanted to take it. Achilles, don’t blame yourself.” Patroclus kept holding him and petting his hair. Silence followed his statement, and he wondered if he had actually spoken. He remembered thinking to words, wanting to say them to comfort Achilles, but he couldn’t remember if he had actually given them life.

When it was apparent that Achilles would not calm down, Peleus cleared his throat. “I called Achilles’ mother, Thetis, and told her the situation.”

“We know that you boys are…close.” Menoetius cleared his throat. It was clear he didn’t want to think about how close “close” was. Patroclus was so spaced out from the previous news that he was hardly affected by this. “And we know that we can’t stop you, Achilles, from trying to save Patroclus from this.”

“We told Thetis about you two as well…she said she would be willing to help. She has a friend, Chiron, in Canada. He’s willing to help you two get over the border and help you two hide until the war is over.” Peleus words, and everything, all came to Patroclus in slow motion, but slowly he processed them and came back to himself.

He looked over at Achilles. He had stopped crying, but was still sitting pressed against him. “You mean he doesn’t have to go?”

“No.” Peleus answered. He was nervous, but he had every right to be. He was the town’s mayor and here he was, defying the government to help his son’s boyfriend.

“We’ve spent the morning gathering provisions for you two. I’ve already packed you some clothes, some of your art supplies, and more than enough money to get you to Canada and start over.” His father suddenly leaned across the coffee table, forcing his son to make eye contact. “You’ll be okay.”

Patroclus nodded. “I don’t know how-“

“Don’t. We’re Turkish; we don’t talk about our feelings.” He gave Patroclus the saddest smile he’d ever seen in his life, and then clapped his son’s shoulder. “I’m only doing what any father would do in my position.”

The two stood and hugged each other briskly. Patroclus wasn’t any closer to understanding his father, or what he was in his eyes, but he did know that he’d been grossly misunderstanding him all these years.

“You two can take my truck, and I’ll give Ace money too. All he needs to do is pack.” Peleus walked over and hugged Patroclus. With a dry laugh he said “I’m only doing what any would-be father-in-law would do.”

“Thank you both, so much.” His voice had been surprisingly steady through all of this. He was thankful, but not enough to think the universe had anything remotely good about it to thank it.

“I guess I should pack now.” Achilles mumbled as he stood up and wrapped his hands around Patroclus’ waist. Patroclus flinched slightly at the contact. Being so affectionate towards another man in front of his father would be something he’d probably never get used to.

*

Achilles threw his last bag into the bed of the truck.

“The guitar is sitting up front with us.” He said matter-of-factly, placing it gently into the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seat.

“Did you really just buckle that in?” Patroclus scoffed. He was slowly returning to his normal self now that the threat of war was no longer hanging over his head.

“Yes- it’s the closest thing to a child that we’ll ever have.”  The blonde smiled up at his boyfriend. Patroclus only rolled his eyes- his instant response for anything ridiculous Achilles did.   

The two looked over at where their fathers were standing in front of the house, watching them. The four made their way towards each other.

“I called your school, Ace. I told them you were moving so…you can just finish high school once you get to Canada.” Peleus looked down at the ground and then off to the side. Patroclus could tell how hard this was for him, and would be infinitely grateful he was letting Achilles runaway with him. “The quickest way from here would be to hit route 66, then head up the pacific coast. Thetis- Thetis lives just outside of San Francisco. Stop by there and she’ll put you in contact with Chiron.”

The four stood in silence. None of them could really believe what was happening, but realized they needed to. The sooner Patroclus disappeared, the better.

“So…this is it, huh?” He asked, looking at his father. Menoetius’ only response was to nod and clap his son on the shoulder.

“Drive safe, Pat.”

“Sure thing, dad. See you on the flip side.” Patroclus didn’t mind the emotionless goodbye. It was less messy.

Besides- it wasn’t as if this was goodbye forever.

Patroclus turned to his boyfriend to see that he didn’t have the same emotionally detached sentiment. The other father and son duo were hugging each other tightly and giving promises to write and call whenever possible.

Patroclus looked up and saw the sun was directly in the middle of the sky. _Shit._ It was already noon.

“Come on, Ace.” Patroclus put his hand on the small of Achilles’ back.

Achilles nodded and broke away from his dad. “Bye. I’ll write you.”

“I know. I will too. I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, dad.” The two hugged again, and Patroclus could have sworn that Peleus was going to start crying. He’d never been good with emotions, so his immediate response was to run and start the truck. He climbed in the driver’s side and waited for his boyfriend.

As he did, he watched as his own father looked at him once more, before going to his station wagon. Patroclus did, on some level, resent his father for never expressing his love or pride in him, but one glance at Peleus and Achilles made him question that.

Emotions never were, and never would be, his thing, and he was content with that. 

 

Eventually Peleus and Achilles broke apart. Achilles sniffled as he climbed into the passenger seat, and nodded at his boyfriend. “Let’s go.”

Patroclus took one hand off the steering wheel and held Achilles’ hand in his.“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (continues to internally scream)


	4. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad News: we're now at the “I’m an angsty twink who thinks he’s deep af” part of the story.   
> Good News: We’re almost at the “get a dog” portion of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO Idk if I even need to do this but I wanted to issue a lowkey trigger warning for using the q-slur once for twice in this chapter. I know it’s an iffy thing in the community but I, male home of sexual, just??used it??bc??historically accurate?? Sorry? I’ve used so many homophobic slurs in this story yikes.jpg

They drove for as long as they could after they left. 

Or rather, Patroclus drove for as long as Achilles would let him. 

Their late start and the short fall days made it so they barely got out of the eastern half of the state before nightfall. 

 

“Pull over. We need to rest.” Achilles said for what must have been the 5th time in the last half hour. 

 

“I will. Just as soon as we get the fuck out of B.F.E. and back into civilization.” Patroclus looked around the dirt road they were traveling on. He secretly wondered if they had made a wrong turn somewhere, but he didn’t want to annoy Achilles with his endless array of anxiety induced questions. 

 

“You said that 30 minutes ago, and I don’t see any lights on the horizon.” Achilles stuck his head out of his rolled-down window to get a better view. Some days his boyfriend was more of a golden retriever than a teenage boy. 

 

“Well,” Patroclus strained his neck to look further down the all but abandoned road. “What do you suggest we do?”

 

Achilles sat back in the car, wind blown hair all around his face. Green eyes looked over his boyfriend, filled with a childlike excitement. “We can camp out! Just like my dad and I used to do back when I was a kid.” 

 

“Where?” Patroclus looked around them once more. It was getting harder to see with each passing second, and he didn’t trust the truck’s headlights to get them to the nearest camping sight. 

 

“Anywhere! Just pull off the side of the road and we’ll make do.” 

 

Patroclus scoffed and cast a sideways glance at his boyfriend. “Make do? With what?” 

 

“Blankets, pillows, and my guitar.” Achilles turned around, sliding the window to the bed of the truck opening, and stick himself out of it. 

 

“Achilles! Can you please not do stupid things like this while I’m driving?” Patroclus slowed so they were barely going above 5 miles an hour. 

 

“Don’t be such a flat tire, Pat. I’m just making sure I packed my comforter.” His voice was muffled from the sound of the gravel being crushed between under the tires and the roar of the truck’s engine. “Just pull off of the road. It’ll be fun.”

 

Patroclus muttered something about  _ I’ll show you a flat tire when the fucking future farmers of America see a white guy and a brown guy cuddling together in the back of a pick up  _ that Achilles chose to ignore in his efforts to squeeze back into the truck, because despite his boyfriend’s obvious hesitation he felt them veer off to the side of the road and stop. Patroclus pulled the keys out of the ignition and sighed. “If we get murdered, I’m killing you.” 

 

“Isn’t that a bit redundant.” 

 

“That’s the point.” Patroclus sighed and opened his door. Achilles watched him fondly, a loving smile dancing across his pink lips. 

 

_ I would follow you to hell and back.  _ He thought. He wanted to say it. Then say it again. Then keep saying it over and over again until Patroclus believed it and that guilty look finally left his eyes. But he didn’t say that- he couldn’t say that. Not yet. He’d wait until they were safe over the Canadian border. 

He grabbed his guitar from where it had been placed in between the driver’s side and the passenger's side and jumped out. He made his way around the back end of the truck about the same time Patroclus finished spreading out Achilles’ light blue comforter. He climbed up then turned around and offered a hand to help Achilles up. 

 

“What a gentleman.” The blonde smiled, accepting Patroclus’ offer with his free hand. 

 

Patroclus, upon seeing the guitar, rolled his eyes so dramatically Achilles wondered if they would fall out of his head. “You aren’t going to snuggle with that thing are you?” 

 

“Only if you keep up your snark.” Achilles winked and placed the cherry strained Gibson down. Patroclus bemused smirk turned into a pout, which prompted Achilles to kiss him. Patroclus kissed back on reflex. Their lips, brushing against one another with unapologetic love, before Patroclus remembered where they were and pulled back. 

 

“Shit.” He looked around at the darkness. Even in the middle of nowhere, his own paranoia still ate away at him. 

 

“What? What is it?” Achilles looked around. His fight instinct instantly kicking in- fists clenches and legs ready to jump. 

 

“Nothing. We’re fine. It’s just,” Patroclus sank down in the bed of the trunk, his head in his hands. “I know we’re in the middle of nowhere, but you shouldn’t touch me like that so openly.” 

Achilles nodded, sitting next to his guitar. 

Patroclus looked up at him. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean- I just-” 

 

“No, no. You’re right.” The blonde’s fingers wrapped around Pat’s ankle and squeezed. “We’re not in my dad’s house anymore. I should be more careful.” 

 

Patroclus nodded and smiled, but it was just another sad smile. Achilles had grown up sure of himself- Peleus and Thetis, despite her distance, were instrumental in that- sure of his power and his ability. In their small town he was well known for his strategic plays and surprising strength.

In their small town he sat on the hood of this very truck and promised Patroclus that he would change the world, and that he would do it just to see him smile. 

But they weren’t in their small town anymore. They were in the middle of god knows where, their only source of light the twinkling stars above them, and Achilles realized how.. _.incapable _ he was.

This realization hit him like tsunami raging against a small coast. Like a bomb exploding under him and scattering all of him to the wind. 

He had never, never, in his life been made to feel so small by anyone. Let alone his own thoughts.

 

“Puppy?” Patroclus asked, his hand on Achilles’ knee. He hated how expressive he was- he hated the way he knew that his pain was painted to clearly across his androgynous features. “Look- I’m just real wound up right now and I’m being super paranoid. I shouldn’t-” 

 

Achilles frown deepend. Now Patroclus was blaming himself for his unhappiness and that was the last thing either of them needed right now. He silenced Patroclus with another ankle squeezed, then removed his hand and grabbed his guitar. 

What they  _ did  _ need right now was a distraction. A little happiness. 

Patroclus had always liked it when Achilles played his guitar, and he had liked it even more when Achilles sang to him. But his own feelings of inadequacy momentarily took away his voice, so he settled for just strumming out the first thing he could think of. 

 

He wanted something light and simple, but around Patroclus, Achilles’ very soul filled with passion so intense it was like a blast of napalm. So when he played that night, it was like he was serenading the stars above them, or better yet, like the cords he was playing were the very tears of the stars themselves. 

It made Patroclus think about Hector and how he’d lost his eyes, hands, and life to an explosion.

He thought about how Hector was like the older brother he’d always wanted, and how Hector had instantly accepted him when Patroclus told him he was queer. 

_ “If anybody gives you shit, curly, you come to me. Alright?”  _

_ “Alright.” _

_ “I’m fucking serious. If anyone gives you shit or if you ever need anything, you know you can always come to me. Promise me you’ll do that.”  _

_ “I promise.” _

Patroclus promised because he meant it. If he had ever been in need of anything, Hector was the first person he would have gone to. But now Hector was gone. Hector was dead and gone and his fucking eyes hadn’t even made it out of vietnam.

Patroclus looked up at the stars and wondered if Hector was up there among them. If he could see them or if he was blind up in  _ whereeverthefuck _ people went when they died. He wondered if he was still wearing his bloodstained uniform.  _ I should have made him promise he’d come back alive and in one piece. _

 

Achilles stopped playing and was in front of Patroclus, cupping his face and asking him what was wrong so fast Pat could barely process it. 

“What?” 

 

“You’re crying, baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was full of concern and his eyes were filled with way too much love. He looked like he was about to cry too, like the mere sight of Patroclus crying brought him to tears. Or maybe it was the same sadness he’d just seen on his face.

Yeah. Maybe Pat’s sadness and despair were leaking out of him with each passing second and infecting his boyfriend. “Why are you crying, Patroclus.” 

He wiped the back of his hand across his own cheek.  _ Fuckin’ a. _ He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. 

“What’s wrong?” Achilles asked again. Something about the way he asked it- his tone of voice, the way his face shifted with each word- wondered if Achilles was asking that question about himself too. But sometimes, Patroclus knew, he got way too into his own head and looked way too into things. Sometimes, he knew, he just needed to answer others’ questions instead of asking more of his own.

“I was-” His body shuddered with an uncried sob. Sometimes he felt like his body was little more than an old port in the middle of a big storm, and other times he felt like his body was nothing at all. He couldn’t tell which one was more true to him right now. He didn’t think it mattered.  _ Hector doesn’t even have a fucking body right now.  _ “I was just thinking about Hector. I was thinking about his eyes.” 

 

Achilles’ hands ran up and down the side of Patroclus’ arms. The blonde was crying now too. He wanted to find Patroclus’ wound and suck out all of his sadness like poison from a snake bit. Before he could say anything to him, Pat continued. 

 

“Hecuba and Priam had to see him like that- without his eyes, you know? They had to drive forty fucking miles to the nearest base just to I.D. him. Their eldest son.” He was crying. His words were shaky and half thought out. He knew what he was saying was little better than incoherent rambling- in fact, that’s all it really was- but he needed to get it out. “Hecuba and Priam, they had to  _ bury  _ him like that. He wasn’t whole when they put him in the fucking ground, Achilles.” 

 

Achilles pressed their foreheads together. He pushed out a shaky breath as Patroclus’ arms encompassed him and tightened. He didn’t know what to say; the two of them had been best friends for years and he’d never, not once, seen him express this much emotion. 

He knew why this was all coming out now, though. He knew why all the pain he’d felt at his old friend’s death was coming out now. He knew it before Patroclus said it- or rather, sobbed it. 

 

“That could have been me.” 

 

“I know, I know.” He fought to keep his voice steady. “But it won’t be. It won’t be, love.” Achilles found his voice once more. Of the two he had been the best with words- of the two he had been the best with handling emotions, too- but now he felt even more inept than he felt before. “We’re going to go to Canada. We’re gonna cross the border and you’re going to be safe.”  _ And Uncle Sam and piss off.  _

 

“It should be me.” 

 

“What?” Achilles pulled back to look at his companion. “Pat, you can’t be serious.” 

 

“I am.” Patroclus looked up at him. The darks were illuminated in the tears that ran down his face. “I’m ruining your life by making you run away with me. You won’t finished high school for another year- at least- and you’re losing your chance at getting into Stanford.” 

Patroclus wrapped his arms around his own legs in the wake of Achilles’ pulling away. He rocked slightly, continuing to fight a losing battle against his sobbing. 

“And what am I for running away? I’m a fucking coward, that’s what I am.” 

 

“None of that is true and you know it. You’re not ruining my life, Patroclus. God dammit, I would follow you to hell if back if it kept you safe. You know what would ruin my life? You dying on the other side of the world without me there to say goodbye.” Achilles’ hands were back at Patroclus’ biceps. He gripped his hard enough to hurt, but Patroclus didn’t care. The pain tethered him to his body. The pain made him feel real. “Fuck Standford, fuck the war, and fuck the idea of you being a coward.” 

 

“But you would have gone- you still wanted to enlist.” 

 

“Patroclus,” Achilles his took his head in between his hands. Achilles couldn’t tell if he was still crying or not. He really hoped not. “I’m a fucking idiot. I would jump off of a god damn bridge if I thought it’d be honorable.” 

Patroclus just shook his head. He had stopped crying at least. 

“Patroclus, love, please. You’re going to be okay, and so am I.” 

 

Patroclus’ shoulders sank a little, a sign he was relaxing, and he leaned forward. With his forehead resting on Achilles’ collar bone he asked “What about your honor? Your valor? Your education?” 

 

“Canada has plenty of colleges too.” Tanned hands found their way to brown curls as he spoke, and he started idly playing with the delicate hairs on the back of Patroclus’ neck. It made the older boy shudder against him. Achilles thought of all the other times he’d felt him shudder against him in a similar manner. He wished he could make him feel good like that right then. He wanted Patroclus’ voice to crack out of need, not despair. “And I think the greatest honor is loving and being loved by you.” 

 

There was a short pause before he felt Patroclus shudder against him. He worried that he had made Patroclus cry once more, but Patroclus pulled back with a tear stained smile. “That was cheesy. Even for you.” 

 

“If it makes you smile, I’ll recite every bad pickup line I’ve ever heard.” 

Achilles let Patroclus pull him down into a kiss. 

 

“Thank you.” Patroclus whispered when they parted- his thick lips ghosting against Achilles’ as he spoke.

 

“Thank  _ you.”  _ He whispered back. 

 

“For what?” Patroclus asked, genuinely confused but playing along. 

 

“For the great life I know you and I will have together.” Achilles smiled, then broke the embrace to grab the quilt Patroclus had brought along. “Now, let’s get some sleep. I can’t have you driving on less than eight hours of sleep.” 

 

“Mmhmm” Patroclus sighed, holding out his arms for Achilles to slide inside them. His earlier reservations about physical contact seemingly gone out of nowhere, but Achilles didn’t question. He was just happy to cuddle under a beautiful night sky with his even more beautiful best friend.

 

The sounds of the late fall night sounded them as they drifted off to sleep. Achilles’ dreams were full old memories- of him, Peleus, and Patroclus going out camping in mountains on summer break. 

Patroclus’ dreams were of a better world. One where he and Achilles could sit in a diner and share a kiss, and across from them Hector stuck his tongue out at them; his brown eyes glowing like a copper spearhead set ablaze. 

 

***

 

They woke up around dawn. Patroclus whined about needing coffee and Achilles whined about needing more sleep.

 

“If you offered to drive every now and then I might be more sympathetic.” Pat quipped. 

 

“And if you were more sympathetic, I might offer to drive every now and then.” Achilles winked. 

 

Maybe the waking world wasn’t so bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up 60’s slang for this chapter. Am I a real author yet?

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr!  
> Main: wildecount  
> tsoa/lotf/history side blog: quidiximeiegas


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